


My little puppeteer

by ropesandfurs



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: (but he is the one who wears the pants in that relationship), BDSM, Bondage, Collars, Cumplay, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Play, Humiliation kink, Incest Kink, M/M, Masochist Newt, Obsession, PWP, Pain Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Sibling Incest, Theseus is just there along for the ride, submissive newt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 17:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17812208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ropesandfurs/pseuds/ropesandfurs
Summary: Sometimes Theseus wondered if there was a way out of that sinful hole for him. If he could ever have a normal life in which the spark of his little brother’s eyes and his masochistic lust didn’t drive him crazy and stripped him down to his most basic and degrading instincts.





	My little puppeteer

**Author's Note:**

> Very porny - you've been warned.  
> Enjoy ;3c

Newt is a sweetheart, right? A gentle and shy man, more at ease with his beastly friends than with people. Just an innocent and awkward wizard, working towards making the world a better and fairer place, right? 

That’s what everyone thinks.

Oh, if only they knew! 

 

Theseus drags the tip of his elongated wand over the curved back, scraping over the ropes binding Newt’s limbs together. He is breathing deeply and shivering slightly, hips jerking against the carpet, damp with the precum leaking from his hard dick. He jerks his chest against the rough carpet again, probably to revel in the burn of his erect nipples against the rough, old fabric. Theseus snorts disapprovingly and whacks his wand hard on Newt’s ass, leaving yet another violently red and throbbing mark. Newt yelps but it instantly transitions into a low moan. 

“Brother…” He whispers, struggling in his ties. Savoring the word, the taboo of their relationship as much of a sick turn-on for him as the pain. 

  
***

It was him who started it. When they were living together and Theseus got him his first job at the Ministry. It took him a couple of years of heated, furtive looks, casual touches and carefully thrown words, until Theseus was obsessed with him, unable to reconcile his desires with his morals. Then, Newt took the next step and pulled him down to hell, handing him the leash of his own collar and kneeling down, that sinful mouth curving into a lustful smile, at clash with his submissive begging for Theseus to possess him, to call him his “pet”, his “baby brother” and his “fucktoy”. He wanted to be hurt, abused and fucked like a cheap whore. Getting off by verbal and physical humiliation, abuse or discipline. He taught Theseus what he liked, instructing step-by-step what he wanted to be done to him with a low growl in his voice and hooded eyes. 

“I’ve just got into a brawl with a dragon-snake” He used to explain to their parents over Sunday lunch, when mom pointed out the bruises on his neck and the blues around his wrist. Theseus just stuffed his mouth with food, trying not to react to Newt’s other hand, rubbing his groin under the tablecloth. 

Sometimes he wondered if there was a way out of that sinful hole for him. If he could ever have a normal life in which the spark of his little brother’s eyes and his masochistic lust didn’t drive him crazy and stripped him down to his most basic and degrading instincts. 

“You can date whoever you want” Newt told him. He always ignored Theseus at their workplace, angelically and discreetly flirting with every man and woman at the Ministry until Theseus, vision bloodshot with jealousy, shoved him into some closet and fucked him raw. “I know that at the end, you will always choose me.” 

And he was right. Even years later, when their careers led them separate ways, sometimes he would apparate in Theseus’ bedroom, naive expressing shifting into a lustful leer, the collar gleaming on his neck, and Theseus would forget everything, falling again into that bottomless pit of devotion and obsession. 

He learned not to feel guilty about it. Almost. 

 

A month and a half after Paris Newt showed up at his door with a trunk and took over Theseus’ spare bedroom, even if he seldom used it for more than just storing his stuff. They didn’t talk feelings, trauma, loss or fears. However, after the first sunset, he told Theseus to take off his clothes, turned on the gramophone and they danced naked all night. Nothing else, but when Theseus woke up the next day he had the key to the padlock of Newt’s collar hanging around his own neck.

 

***

The padlock, of delicate silver, probably made of occamy eggshells, gleams now in a ray of moonlight, squished between Newt’s neck and the carpet. He is drooling from his open mouth, body heaving deeply as Theseus hits him again, and then drags him up by the hair, licking the tears on his face. They taste salty on his tongue and he swallows down, biting on his own grin. 

Taking the base of his cock in his hand he guides it into Newt’s mouth, feeding it to him inch by inch. Newt tenses up when Theseus pushes past his long-ago tamed gag reflex and into his throat. 

Letting go of his member, Theseus takes hold of Newt’s shoulder, fingernails digging painfully and deliciously into the flushed skin, if Newt’s moan, that reverberates around the dick in his mouth, is anything to go by. It helps Theseus support his brother’s limp, bound body by more than a fistful of hair, and he drags him away and then in again, rocking Newt’s head onto his dick. 

It’s a forced, sloppy blowjob, with Theseus completely in control, just using Newt’s face as a wet hole to stick it in and get off. Newt’s eyes roll up in pleasure, the degradation and helplessness alone almost enough to make him climax, not to mention the gagging and choking, the shortage of air when Theseus doesn’t let him come up to breathe for long enough. He is shaking now, body tight and dick twitching. But Theseus doesn’t come in his mouth, he pulls out and pushes Newt down to the floor, his abused backside dragging painfully against the rug, making him scream a broken, hoarse moan. 

Theseus is on him the next second, kneeling over his face and thrusting down his throat again, fast and deep, his balls slapping against Newt’s chin and he can’t move, can’t breathe, or scream or turn his head. He is choking and almost passes out, but then a stream of hot come fills him and he gags and splatters, heaving and coughing it out when Theseus pulls out. 

Theseus chuckles and stands up on shaky legs, dick still twitching and dropping come from his upright position, feet on either side of Newt’s head, looking down at the beautiful picture of his own doing.

“You are a dirty slut, little brother.” He says, to his bound, ruined lover, careful to keep any trace of sweetness out of his voice, to keep it mocking and low. Because the sheer derision and humiliation is enough to make Newt jerk and come untouched. He sobs, back arching and eyes closed shut, while Theseus looks down at him and smiles with overwhelming affection. 

**Author's Note:**

> Love me some good BDSM. Those two are just perfect for this kind of smut too, imirite? ;) 
> 
> If it made you horny, please leave a comment, so I know if I should write some more :P
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr FB sideblog](http://scamandeering-beauxbatons.tumblr.com)


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